


Of Men and Monsters

by memescanor



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games), rdr2 - Fandom
Genre: All the monsters, F/F, F/M, M/M, Other, Werewolf, more characters will be added as they appear - Freeform, vampire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 17:25:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17750282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memescanor/pseuds/memescanor
Summary: Blackwater was the mark of the new age and the end of a life Arthur knew. Pinkertons and that heist is what had him worried. Turns out, they weren’t even the half of it.





	Of Men and Monsters

Pencil glided on parchment with a grace that was an art in of itself. Not a hand of a master by any means but one of someone who needed time to themselves to think about things, contextualizing in anyway possible.  
Back to bark, Arthur found his muse in a stag that hadn’t to much mind to him sitting in the shade as a reprieve from the heat.

  
_‘The breeze is the only thing here keeping a person on his feet from the sting of the heat but it beats the cold of the mountain for damn sure. Still the heat isn’t the only sting that concerns me. Dutch assures that the pickup from the bust in Blackwater isn’t far ahead but something keeps nagging at me about the whole thing but I can’t place my finger on it.... just feels as if our problems are far from over. Something just don’t feel right to me.’_

  
”Arthur!”

  
On cue, the stag scampers off into the foliage and Arthur can’t help the sigh that escapes him.

  
”MmHm?”

  
”You forget how to speak or something?”

  
”Just don’t like wasting my breath on people who already exhaust me.”

  
The book claps loudly as it’s shut and Uncle scoffs a laugh.

  
”Well aren’t you mighty affectionate today.”

  
”What’d ya want?”

  
”Wanted go into town that’s all... So do some of the ladies.”

  
”In that case why don’t you ask John to take ya. Sure he needs more liquor to cope with that victim complex he built over those scars.”

  
“Give the fella a break for one moment Morgan. Come on now and let’s have some fun.”

  
The futility in telling the lazy bastard ‘no’ was always a lesson he had to relearn.

  
”Fine. But if I have to pull you out of another situation I’m leaving you to rot.”

  
”When don’t ya?”

  
It doesn’t take long for them to load up the wagon but in the time that it does he sees John from a distance and even though he’s been avoiding talking to him he recognizes something different about him. He complains about needing bed rest and to be left alone in his ‘agony’ but ignoring the scars.... he looked fine. Better than fine. There wasn’t anything distinguishable for Arthur to pinpoint what was different about him and that just irritated him. He’d ought to know what it was.  

  
Then their eyes met. It was as if Arthur thought too loudly and only John could hear him. They were locked into this stare down but  luckily the crack of the reigns was an efficient escape.

  
—

  
Arthur had just been content to let his mind be put at ease with the girls and Uncle chatting up a storm, untouched by the worries of the world.... no more so too intrigued in what fun there was to be had than anything but the passerby wagon that had its horses break free broke him out of the comfort of that disassociation.

  
Now he would insist he was a bad man but it didn’t take a second thought for him to stop and help the man gather up his horses. Maybe because horses were easier to deal with than people keen on conversation like this stranger was.

  
”Thank you so much for the help.”

  
Retaking his splintery throne as driver he was ready to keep going, clutching the reigns but cordiality of socialization wasn’t something to be escaped so easily.

  
”Take ca-.”

  
”You passing through or staying in the area.”

  
”Uhhh bit of both suppose.”

  
”Well I’d recommend packing up. I know I’m heading as far as I can away.”

  
Arthur nodded about to continue when Karen steps in, as per usual.

  
”And why’s that?”

  
”Haven’t been into Valentine yet? Well the whole damn place is a wreck... Some animal killed some folk in town.. Passerbys no one knew apparently, but the damn thing mauled them to the bone taking then some. None the like I’ve ever seen.”

  
Heavy concern for the unknown had returned from the pit of Arthur’s gut.

  
“A wild animal.... walking into a settlement in murdering people isn’t something I’ve heard of before but.. couldn’t of someone just shoot the damn thing. Even a bear couldn’t handle a town.”

  
“Apparently they did but it just ate it like it was nothing. Destroyed property like it was nothing too. Most people are on edge right now and aren’t the most friendly.”

  
Gears in his mind began turning as they did when things were setting up to be trouble. Arthur shrugged and sighed,

“Aight then, thanks for the heads up stranger.”

  
He nods and whips the reigns heading away from Valentine as their wagon just sat there with only a methodical wind periodically humming any tune until a rough hand slaps the outside of Arthur’s arm.

  
“We getting booze or what?”

  
“Did you not just hear what was just said or are you too deaf to-“

  
“Hell it changes nothing. I’m still going to get booze and they still wanna have fun.”

  
Karen giggles,

“Who’d of thought tough man Arthur here gets discouraged from an animal attack when he kills people all the damn time.”

  
“Would it ever hurt either one of you to just pipe down?”

  
The reigns of the horses are whipped as they start up towards town.

  
—

  
Turns out the word was right about Valentine. Inhospitable as hell. Understandably so but god damn. Practically could hear the tumbleweeds in the distance.

  
Boots plunged into the mud of the pathing in Valentine one by one coming off the wagon.  
Tilly, Sharon, and Mary-Beth scuttle off to do god knows what.

  
“See ya fellas later.”

  
Arthur holds a hand up

  
“Don’t get into trouble.”

  
Pivoting on his sol, he goes up the stairs into the store with Uncle as perused the liquors to which Arthur swiftly walked past and bought himself coffee. Lord knows how exhausting this trip would be. Striding out as soon as he came in with his can in tow,

  
“I’ll be outside.”

  
Creaking of the unsettled and old floorboards, Arthur takes a seat on the bench and leans his head back resting on the wall behind him, closing his eyes. It was so quiet. People weren’t crossing the streets, asking for money, wanting to fight....

  
Nothing at all.

  
Nice to him but unfamiliar to a settlement like this.

  
_“Who’d of thought tough man Arthur here gets discouraged from an animal attack when he kills people all the damn time”_

 _  
_ No.... he needed to stop getting so damn suspicious of every little thing. He opened his eyes looking for a break from himself which seemed to be louder than the world around him. Tossing his can up and down into his palm scouting for anything of interest in the ghost town he spots a wagon a ways down the  path through town. Tarp covers it but the crimson seeps through the vanilla unable to hide its stark contrast from the grey outside. Hand still as the earth peeks out from underneath; discolored with greying overtone and blue and reds.

  
Still gathering the bodies of the victims apparently. Sad unlucky bunch of folk.

Pitying the dead didn’t last when a glistening gold reflects into his eye from a distance, a gold he knew well. A sheriffs badge that instinctively made him tip his hat ever so slightly down to mask his face; curious eyes still watching underneath. He walks forward with a stack of parchments and hops onto the wagon seat with a driver before they head off.

  
As they turn the corner, a paper is swept up by the wind following the wagon, tumbling like a weed down the street before it gets caught on the side of the stairs to the building right in front of Arthur as if God was teasing him. Cautiously looking both ways as if there were people causing traffic, Arthur shifts his weight onto his feet and plucks the paper from its new home.

  
It was a wanted poster. Dead or Alive for someone in the O’Driscoll gang. Arthur didn’t recognize they guy considering how Colm has a horde of pawns. Across the drawings face was in big red lettering from the staining of a stamp, ‘DECEASED’.  

  
“The hell is the O’Driscolls doing down here?”

  
“Arthur!”

 

A pair of concealed boots rush over to Arthur with the front fabric of the dress being coiled up in the balls of fists as his gruff hands tuck the now folded parchment into his back pocket.

“Mary-Beth?”

She stops and rests her gentle hand on his chest with rhythmic pat as she speaks in hushed tones, “Arthur, I got a lead for a hit.”

  
“In this town? Who the hell is there to talk to?”

“There’s always people drinking and people wanting to talk to those with a kind smile, which you should try to do sometimes.”

  
He scoffs and turns away, hands on his hips. Everyone was just taking shots at him today it seemed. Deeply exhaling, he turns licking his lips to clarify his quip before he sees Tilly being pushed into an alleyway next to the hotel away from prying eyes by some man.

“Excuse me.”

Quickly rushing over, he closed in the distance and finds the man pinning her to the wall.

“You think I wouldn’t find you Tilly?”

“You can go kiss a snake for all I care….Get off of me dammit.”

Stomping just loud enough to implant himself into their argument, his eyes narrow on the man.

“Get your hands off of her friend.”

The man’s attention is diverted to him,

“Who are you?”

Tilly, taking this shift in direction to her advantage, practically spits dominance down the man’s neck,

“A friend of mine.”

“Get off of her.”

Moisture in the air is chill and still as the man exchanges a glance between the both of them, stepping away from Tilly, facing Arthur.

“Or what, exactly…..Friend?”

Mary-Beth’s words echoed in his mind and a certain smile came onto his face as he looked him dead in the eye,

“You wanna find out?”

Glancing between the two once more, he stops at Tilly and points at her before walking away,

“You are making a big mistake Tilly Jackson.”

“Get lost...I ain’t doing this with you right now.”

The two are alone and Arthur folds his arms looking at her with a raised brow.  
“Part of the Foreman Brothers…”

“Ah.. Karen?”

“The hotel. We were trying to get some scores.”

  
“Alrighty then, you go ahead and meet with Uncle and Mary-Beth at the wagon. I say it’s time we head back.”

  
She nods and heads over. Of course everything had to be a pain the ass. Irritation is sounded reverberating through him, echoing in his footsteps, into the hotel when a loud crash is heard upstairs.

“Son of a bitch.”

  
Boots climb the stairs in rapid succession as the clerk is there counting money indifferently. Rushing past the room doors with hot feet, keen ears listening to each still door for movement within; the one at the end of the hall being the ticket. Courteous men would knock in case their assumptions were wrong but unfortunately for whoever was inside Arthur was not one of them.

Locking mechanisms in the door bust outwards as Arthur kicks down the door to a dark room; Karen slumped unconscious on the ground and a pale man hunching over her with his mouth agape turning when Arthur kicks the door down. No hesitation is seen as Arthur charges the man but within the small frame of time their eyes locked he saw it, or at least he thinks he did; the elongated canine teeth.

Time picks up again when his body collides with the other; both of them sprawling out on the floor. Arthur goes to pick himself off the ground but a cold hand clamps down on his throat, involuntarily letting out what air he had as a grunt, dragging him on the ground before holding him high off the ground. The blood pressure in his face swells with a red throbbing, his eyes feeling like they were going to pop out of their sockets, as his throat and lungs plead out for mercy. Fingers try to wedge underneath his hand in attempt to levy their grip off of him as his legs swing with conviction into his gut repeatedly.

The break he gets isn’t the result from his pitiful attempts to get him off but from being hurled across the room and crashing into a wall; a decorative painting falls from the wall, shattering the glass frame in tandem with his fall. Gasping for air, he sees the man approach Karen once again as he attempts to pull himself back up into the fight before falling onto his stomach again.

_Shit._

His body was asking him to stay down but he couldn’t. There was no way he was going to sit idly by.

When the futility of trying to stand up in this instance starts to set in, hope dangles in front of him in the form of curtain fabric swaying ever so slightly. A fist clutches the bottom of it, another fist follows suit higher on the fabric as he attempts to climb up onto his feet, gasping. His brawn, however, proved to be too heavy for its daintiness and the curtain fixture breaks off with him slamming onto the floor with a thud; coughing, back aching, and with light now filling the room

_Damn it all._

He attempts to get up again when the sound of screams bounce off the walls of the room. Arthur looks on as he watches as a hole bore through the man’s body with another crater appearing and more so after. The world seems to stand still as Arthur watches the man fold into himself like a piece of paper that was ignited. Shriveling up into nothing, the only people in the room are Arthur and an unconscious Karen. His eyes fixated on the smoke; the only evidence of the man existing. Mouth is agape as gasps, his stomach sinks into an all time low.

 

What in the hell just happened?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever published fan fiction so that's a little nerve racking but the MonsterVerse!RDR is really great and has been buzzing in my head for a while. This is still very much a work in progress but I hope whoever reads this enjoys it for what its worth.  
> Thanks for the read!


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